


The Scent of Petrichor and Unease

by LycanDelta



Category: Original Work
Genre: ??? I don't know if it counts here in chapter 2, AU, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Future, Arts High School, Disease, Future, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, High School, I had to do research on that, I just can't seem to get as many readers as I'd like, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Dangan Ronpa 1, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Like, Locker Room Sex, Multi, Murder, Nonbinary, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Protagonist, Other, POC Protagonist, PoC, SO, Shower Sex, Slow Build, Somebody gets their head beat in with a can of soda, Trans Character, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse, but we'll see, dfab protagonist, dr1, eh, feel free to suggest tags I haven't thought of yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10873536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LycanDelta/pseuds/LycanDelta
Summary: Sometime in the future, but not terribly far, as so to forget mistakes of the past, Petrichor Arden and their sweetheart (of sorts) Isidore Najem go to a rather peculiar boarding school, where talent is innate in everybody, and one learns to hone these crafts, and make themselves useful to humanity. At the very least, until humanity finds itself fragmenting in a way that hasn't happened since the times of the Black Plague. A disease that many have called a love child of rabies and zombies has begun to spread, causing unease among the student body as more than a few teachers begin to show symptoms...Not to mention the school has been put on lockdown both ways. No way in, no way out. Only 3 days into the lockdown, and most of the adults have turned savage, or treacherous. Alliances and reliances are all that's keeping anybody (including Petrichor and Isidore) kicking.Will anybody come out of this anguish alive?





	1. An Introduction To An End

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired Dangan Ronpa 1 as you may have noticed due to the tags. This story will get both violently graphic and possibly sexually graphic. Also, later chapters may deal with Petrichor's dysphoria so if stuff like that is a trigger for you, this may not be the best story for you to read.  
> Though, I do greatly appreciate the reads, and any comments/critiques are welcome!

Petrichor

noun

/ˈpeˌtrīkôr/ -a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.

 

Today's run to the vending machine at the end of the hall had nearly ended them. Again. It had been a week since they'd had any classes, and 3 days since the full lockdown, since things got bad. Bad. Frankly, Petrichor wasn't sure it could get much worse. Everybody had been at each others' throats. Staff, students, didn't matter. Everybody was ready to put a knife into the back of anybody.

Of course, every time Petrichor grumbled about how bad everything had become, Isidore always chided her. Like they hadn't just almost died for a few protein bars and Lipton teas. 

"We're just stuck in the dormitories. Imagine the chaos in any of the actual school wings! The only place I can imagine that'd be even relatively safe would be the library, maybe a few of the labs," He'd chuckle. As much as Petrichor couldn't help but wince at how lightly he seemed to be taking this, this being the end of the world it seemed, Isidore's positive outlook kept it from getting much worse. He had a point as well. 

The school and dormitories were connected, but the school had several segments, wings so to speak. The Literary Wing, the Art Wing, the Science Wing, the Tech Wing, the Physical Wing (or Health Wing, depending on who you asked) and the Performance Wing. Akin to a college, every student had a major. Some had a secondary major, but for most, they had only one. Petrichor belonged to the Science Wing (of which they missed dearly) and spent a bit of time in the Literary Wing (only for the library.). Far as Petrichor knew, Isidore was part of the Literary Wing. They couldn't remember Isidore's particular specialty, but apparently he was fluent in at least 3 languages. 

For the past few hours, Petrichor had been boarded up with Isidore and a few others in a segment of the Dorms. A teacher (who they were all nearly certain was infected) had been prowling the hall. Making sure they weren't leaving their rooms, wandering. Miss Ralston was her name and she had been one of the sweetest people who worked in the Dorms. Had been. She'd grown so awfully predatory, a far cry from her normal benevolent self, and a few people were quite sure they'd seen her...foaming. At the mouth. Like a rabid animal. 

They weren't sure where the other teachers who watched the dorms were. Maybe they each watched over their own section?

"Like predators, divvying up their territory," Petrichor had remarked, which earned them a pinch from Isidore, and a subtle whimper from the other two in the room.

"Well, none of the Health Wing seniors that had checked on us before are back I think," said a Performance Wing student. She was a mousy thing, Freshman, and she hardly broke 5 feet in height. Her voice however, didn't show any sign of weakness. She seemed disappointed at best, worried at worst. 

"You don't suppose...one of the teachers snapped, do you?" another Freshman piped up. This one was a darker boy, and Petrichor vaguely recognized him, he was a Tech Wing kid. He was definitely quivering a bit, and he seemingly made no effort to hide this. It was true, that rumors were circulating that a security guard had snapped, smashed a kid's head in, but they had no proof. They weren't sure. Everything about all of this was unsure.

Isidore was distributing the haul the duo had gathered. Petrichor was curled up in the corner of the large room, assessing the situation, and the mood. It was cheery overtones, though only because of Isidore. Otherwise, there was nothing but grim undertones. He was doing his best to keep the two Freshmen from growing too melancholy. Petri snorted as they recalled one of Isidore's remarks about the importance about troop morale in various wars throughout history.

"Hey, Petri. You wanna do a quick hall check? You're the quietest," Isidore chirped. Petrichor had gotten so wrapped up in thought, recalling all the interesting, fact filled conversations they'd had with Isidore in the past. And of course, it was 4. Every hour, on the hour, one of them was to scan the halls, and report to Petri in detail, that is, if Petri wasn't doing the scouting. All this, for the purpose of recording possible symptoms, changes in Ralston's behavior, like any good doctor. Nobody had been killed, that they knew of for sure. For this, everybody was grateful, but there was almost no doubt at this point that the risk was very real. 

"You know I never want to. But yeah, 's about that time huh?" Petri scoffed, scooting off the twin size bed and going to the door. Their room had already come up with a procedure for their observational hall checks, and Petri went down the line as they leaned their ear against the door.

Listen for 30 seconds. If you hear somebody nearby, get away from the door. 

Petrichor did so, there was a faint commotion. It was nearly close enough to them to be of concern. Nearly. With a begrudging sigh, they slipped their fingers around the handle, slowly, God so painfully slow! As with every time, the room was dead silent, everybody's hearts beating in their throats'. 

 

Peek outside the door. If you don't see anything, then slowly and quietly open the door further, until it's open all the way, or until you see Ralston. Remember to keep your body close to the door, so you can slam and lock it.

 

So Petri did. Nobody at first, but God dammit if that's blood on the wall over there... Further, still nobody. The commotion was easier to hear though. It certainly wasn't positive commotion, but it still wasn't close enough to raise any alarms. Petri kept going, until the door was finally opened fully. They stepped out from behind the door, looked around it to see down the other side of the hall and yeah that is probably blood. But there were no people visible who it belonged to. It wasn't a terrible amount either, just a few dark crimson splotches, like a nosebleed unattended. Against eggshell tiles and ochre walls, it was still noticeable. 

Petri popped back into the room, giving an O-K signal to the others. Isidore responded with a nod, and slid off the middle bed, softly creeping over to join Petri by the door, while the Freshmen were curled up on the side of the leftmost bed, cowering just a bit. The Performance Wing student was protectively curled around the quivering Tech Wing (though being significantly smaller than the Techie) and humming something that was probably from a musical. 

Isidore turned to the little ones quickly, stage whispering while Petri kept lookout on the now wide open door and hallway, "Alright kids, me and cousin Petri are gonna go check things out again. Stay here, behave, use protection, uh...etcetera. Don't open the door unless it's us. Got it? Good."

Without hesitation, he shoved Petri forward a little, forcing a small yelp from them, which in turn, earned Isidore a sharp elbow. He snickered a bit, as Petri rolled their eyes and cautiously began moving out into the hall, eyes darting back and forth.

"So, Doctor Arden, where to? I'm rather tempted to follow the blood or go towards all that yelling myself, but if you don't have the guts to go investigate, I suppose we can make this another supply run," 

Petri hissed a little to get him to lower his voice, sighing after.

"Well, Mister Najem, if you're willing to take the lead, I suppose I'm feeling adventurous. Better you're doing this with me instead of going alone. No way am I going to let you leave me to take care of the Freshmen. I may be a doctor but that sure as hell doesn't mean I like people," Petrichor responded, stepping aside so Isidore could get by, then kneeling to investigate the blood closer, trying to figure out what direction they had been heading based on the way it splattered. 

Isidore left Petri to intensely glare at the drops of blood for a moment as he pulled his hair back. He noted it was a bit greasy, and he was probably due for a shower. Maybe instead of putting both his, and Petrichor's lives on the line, he should just try to sneak to the showers. He paused to think about it for a moment, playing with his hair. Nah. He leaned against the wall, humming classical music while he ran his fingers through his somewhat tangled hair. He could probably wash it in the sink in their room.

After about 5 minutes of them whispering to themselves, Petrichor finally stood up, turning to Isidore.

"They were heading to the right. Do you still wanna follow it? I have a weird feeling that perhaps our... stuck pig is connected to the commotion from earlier," They mused, a bit of a pleased purr. Isidore couldn't help but note that Petri was no longer as nervous as they had been before.

"I would absolutely love to investigate, alongside you at that, Doctor Arden," he laughed, putting a hand on Petri's shoulder that caused their face to heat up a bit, "Now, where do think the nearest broom closet is?"

 


	2. Investigation of a New Bloodshed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was 5. One hour since Petrichor and Isidore had left the room, 45 minutes since they'd left the hallway right outside their room. 
> 
> One hour. 45 minutes.
> 
> And there was already a corpse. They had already found a corpse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, this is the chapter where the violence kicks up. So, TW for violence.

It was 5. One hour since Petrichor and Isidore had left the room, 45 minutes since they'd left the hallway right outside their room. 

One hour. 45 minutes.

And there was already a corpse. They had already found a corpse. Not even all that far from their room either, just in a small alcove with 2 chairs and a vending machine.

Isidore had nearly puked on sight, and Petri was certainly feeling a bit queasy. The duo was just glad that the killer wasn't around, (seemingly) so Petri dared to near the battered body.

"Hey uh...Petri...I think I'm gonna hang back, you know, make sure we don't...end up the same," Isidore managed to spit out. He wasn't so cheerful now, and Petri would've been somewhat pleased to see him knocked down a peg, if it weren't for the cadaver splayed out before them. 

"That's fine. I understand. I'm a medic and even this is...making me squeamish," They grumbled, pulling out a basic medical kit, sliding on latex gloves. "Do you think I should perform some sort of autopsy, Izzy?"

        Isidore gave a shrug. He was leaning on the wall, staring at the nearest patch of clean floor. Petrichor sighed, and kneeled in front of the corpse. They were used to studying the living exclusively, but they had studied the concepts of forensics, and pathology. They knew that they weren't going to have to cut the person; one of the Physical Wing Seniors that had checked on them earlier, open. The cause of death was more than obvious. 

        A dented and bloodied large can of Sprite was on the floor nearby. The senior's skull, near the temple, was cracked. The temple was the weakest part of the skull, so Petrichor could only hypothesize that somebody either very strong or very angry beat them senseless with a can of soda. Wild, really. Carefully, ever so carefully, Petrichor tilted the senior's head to the side to get a better look at the wound, and the scent of metal was nearly overwhelming. There was a vast difference between reading about human anatomy, and practicing on dummies, but this? This was...beyond anything Petrichor imagined that they would have to do. Especially at 16. After a good ten seconds of manhandling the lukewarm...meat, bone, Petri couldn't take it any longer. They stood up, turned to Isidore, and sighed. He needed to bear witness to this, or at least know the details.

"I assume our...culprit used the corner of the can to do this, holding it like a knife. Blunt force trauma caused the temple portion of the Senior's skull to fracture. The temporal lobe is assumedly the most injured part of the brain, but bleeding on the brain was most likely the cause of death. I think the pieces of the skull jabbed into the temporal lobe, Isidore. I...just wanted to make sure you understood what happened here," They spoke, matter-of-factly, and they were tempted to add a rather selfish "I don't want to deal with this alone..." as their true reasoning for sharing this morbid information. Isidore grunted in acknowledgement, letting Petrichor know he heard.

Petri then stood up, moving away to investigate the can. They had to swallow bile that threatened to come back up, they absolutely couldn't vomit in front of Isidore. Partially, because he was attractive (and perhaps Petrichor in turn, found themselves attracted to this naively positive boy) and partially, because they wanted to make sure Izzy didn't vomit. They weren't strong enough to haul them back if they got sick. 

Petrichor was correct about the corner of the can being used. The top rim was bent, dented, and covered with blood. It looked like it wouldn't take much more effort to get the can to splinter, shatter, or explode otherwise. Petri gulped a bit, and looked around for signs of a struggle. They really didn't want to believe any of the school staff did this. Hell, they didn't want to believe that there was a dead person in the room at all! 

"But sometimes, life just doesn't work like that, huh?"  They thought to themselves as they got back up, keen eyes scanning the walls as they removed the bloodied gloves, throwing them away in a trash can. The first thing noticeable about the area was a fresh crack in the wall, somebody had been smashed up against the wall. Just by eyeballing it, the person was about the same height as the senior. They must've been the wall-smashing victim. The next most noticeable thing...was the cracked glass of the vending machine. Somebody was probably slammed against it. Probably the now deceased Senior. The biggest question that Petrichor had still was who? What teacher (or possibly student) could have done this and why?

Well, from the perspective of somebody infected with that awful disease, (most called it Necro Rabies) they'd be driven to attack people to spread the...disease. Oh no. Petrichor realized this a bit slowly, hadn't they? They quickly scanned themselves for any blood, anything that could've caused them to get infected too, and then the body once more. He didn't seem to have any bites, or scratches... Better safe than sorry. 

"Isidore. We...We need to go. ASAP. Don't touch your eyes, nose, ears, mouth, face, whatever, just, no hands in your orifices! Come on we need to go, now," They began to ramble, grabbing Izzy's hand before beginning to drag him back in the direction of the room. 

"Whoa, wait now, shouldn't we grab some food? Did you see a teacher or something? Petri! Come on I'm serious this isn't cool, let go," He hissed, trying to pull away. Petrichor was still babbling about him not touching anything, trying to drag him away, until finally Petri managed to choke out something, voice raised and trembling with concern.

"The disease! The Necro Rabies! The body could have it and they fought and it's here and... and..." 

With that, Isidore went wide-eyed. Now, he understood. He nodded, letting Petri drag him along. They moved quick, though Petrichor was still shaking, and was clumsy, knocking into things and generally making noise. Not too much, but God how much louder everything always was when you were trying to be quiet...

This was fine and well.  For a while. 

"YOU ARE ON LOCKDOWN. YOU SHOULD NOT BE OUT OF YOUR ROOM AND YOU SHOULD NOT BE TOUCHING THINGS THAT DO NOT BELONG TO YOU!"

Her voice was distant, but it wasn't distant enough. It made Petrichor squeak and drop to their knees, caught only by Isidore, who flinched. Isidore quickly recovered and looked around, only to find that nobody was in sight. He hastily pulled Petrichor back up, who was sort of shellshocked. They dug their nails into Isidore, who began to drag them along. They could hear hard, clicking footsteps drawing closer by the second. Not a run, but definitely walking fast, predatory in nature. The closer the footsteps got, the harder Petrichor began to breath, the more Isidore had to hold them up. Petrichor was almost literally falling apart in his arms.

"Come on Petri...Don't let me down now, I don't want to lose you..." He hissed softly, which caused Petrichor to gulp air loudly, and grab onto Isidore tightly, before rooting themselves to the floor for a moment, then steeling themselves. They looked to Isidore, nodding. Wordlessly agreeing. They still shook like an earthquake, but now they moved faster, more efficient now that they were in some sort of sync and it was starting to seem likely that they would make it out of this unscathed. 

Until they heard a howling scream. Miss Ralston now blocked the way and she was seething. Foam poured from between her bitten up and chapped lips. This caused Petrichor to begin crying noiselessly, but this did not deter Isidore (not externally at the very least.).  He grabbed Petrichor, moving back cautiously. 

"Stay...behind me," He managed to gasp. He protectively stood in front of Petrichor, who dropped to their knees, overwhelmed in this moment, aghast with the unbelievable horror. They were on the ground, wheezing and dry heaving. Miss Ralston turned her awful gaze onto the pair, and somehow, somewhere, she had acquired a metal chair leg. It looked like it had been pried off by her raw anger, one end of it jagged. Isidore tried to take his attention away from Petrichor pitifully writhing on the ground, and onto Ralston. This was fight or flight, and there was almost no way they could both make it out alive if they ran. The options were clear.

Fight, or flee. Flee and abandon Petrichor. Leave Petrichor to the monster, leave them to become infected. Or, fight. Fight and die. So that Petrichor can escape. Petrichor wasn't any good under pressure, but they were a medic. Sure, everybody had to take health and all, but there were little to no other medical specialists save for Petrichor. For the sake of the Freshmen, and for the student body as a whole, he had a sort of obligation, didn't he? What good would a historian like himself be right now?

He had decided. He knew what he was going to do and just in the nick of time at that. Ralston was screaming incomprehensibly, in a strange mixture of Welsh and English, garbled. She wielded the chair leg and began to stomp closer, closing the distance slowly. 

Fight or flight...

Could Isidore really rely on himself not to back down? He wasn't sure, he hadn't had his medicine in 3 days now, and he was an anxious mess behind his naive facade. The facade that was more for him than anybody else.

Out of nowhere, Ralston lunged, jagged end of the chair first. Isidore didn't know what to do, and at this point was guided by his instincts. 

Flight.

"I'm so sorry Petrichor..." he whispered to himself as he rolled out of the way, leaving Petrichor the only one in Ralston's attack radius. Like any good predator, she saw an opening and took it. Petrichor barely managed to skitter out of the way in time. They moved on the floor like a lizard. This is how they would die, not gracefully, not heroically, but pitifully. Dry heaving, sobbing. Prey, cornered. Isidore found himself entranced in the show, a morbid curiosity of sorts. He was paralyzed on the floor a few feet away.

Ralston growled, raising the chair leg like a stake. And Petrichor's instincts took control. 

"I will not die like this."

Petrichor had been digging through their med kit they kept in their pocket. There were supplies all over the ground in front of them, but they had pulled out a scalpel. It was better than nothing... And so, with all the strength Petrichor had, they got to their feet hastily, abandoning the rest of the med kit on the ground. They wielded the scalpel, huffing, tears blinding them. 

Ralston began stomping towards Petrichor, cursing under her breath. She seemed fatigued already. Petrichor glared daggers into her exposed neck. The artery, pumping hard enough for them to see, was exposed, and an easy target. Without hesitation...Petrichor rushed Ralston, while Isidore, having caught wind of some sort of plan, did the same. He grabbed her arms, while Petrichor stumbled back as she attempted to lunge, albeit unsuccessfully due to Isidore. With not even a moment of doubt, Petrichor took the opportunity, and sunk the scalpel into an artery, hopefully deep enough to puncture the veins beneath too. Like a grotesque oil well, blood sprayed from the wound, causing Petrichor to yelp and jump back, and it caused Isidore to drop her in a heartbeat. 

For a moment, they just stood there. Watched the blood pool. She didn't move. She didn't die instantly though, so perhaps, she just gave up. Eventually, Isidore looked up to Petrichor, who's eyes were still clouded with tears, filled with shock.

"You've uh...got...good accuracy with a blade so small," He managed to cough out, eventually. Petrichor nodded a little, gulping. They looked at their hands, and the scalpel, and began to let out choking sobs.

"What...have I done? Oh my god...I've killed. What kind of monster...Isidore....Oh God," They rambled, and they stumbled back, falling onto their behind as they threw the scalpel across the room. They held their left hand away, as though it were cursed now for having sliced the artery. They began to curl up on the floor, and all Isidore could do was watch helplessly. He felt the same. He was an accomplice to this, after all. 

"Petri...Let's...uh, let's go. Go to the showers. We need to clean ourselves up. You can shower first and I'll keep watch so...Let's go. Come on," He muttered. He tried to be as encouraging as possible, pulling Petrichor back to their feet. They sniffled softly, nodded, and leaned into Isidore, head hung. 

"Th...Thank you."

"Of course Petri...We're in this together. Okay?" 

Petrichor nodded, slinging their clean arm around Isidore. Together, they quietly began making their way to the showers. The two were in this together now. As they made their way to the showers, Isidore stopped by a few dorms to let them know Ralston was...gone. There was a solemn rejoice as they were no longer entirely trapped.


	3. Time Heals All Wounds (But Leaves Scars)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 days after killing Ralston, everybody congregates in the bathing locker rooms to discuss their next actions. Ralston had guarded the halls around the locker rooms and bathes so now that she was gone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a bit of sexually implicative content here, but they don't bang or so much as kiss, so idk what to tell you friends.

2 days ago, together, they killed Ralston. Apparently Ralston just patrolled the couple of halls near the showers and baths. But, this more or less freed everybody who was under her watch. However, Petrichor couldn't rid themselves of the guilt that consumed them.

"I used my knowledge of the human body and its weaknesses for bad...I murdered a sick person, Isidore and I'll never forgive myself, no matter what the consequences would've been otherwise," They whimpered.

        Everybody who could congregated in and around the shower locker rooms in the dead of night, even those still being watched by teachers from afar. More or less, it was just the kids who resided in the dorms near Ralston, and a few "delegates" sent by the kids still trapped by other staff members who were infected. Isidore had put Petrichor to the task of informing the others on the Necro Rabies virus (with what little info they had) and how to keep from catching it. Anything to keep their mind off what they had done. 

        It didn't help much though, as people kept congratulating Petrichor on the kill, treating them like a hero. Of course, this only caused Petrichor to snap at them, eyes glassing over with tears each time and their voice threatening to break. After the third or fourth time, people caught on due to Petrichor's unstable and ornery aura. They knew better now. 

        After a sort of congregation, discussion on what to do about the other vicious infected staff members, discussion on the best places to attack a human being (much to Petri's chagrin) and plans on what to do about the already limited supplies. They all planned to loot the dorm vending machines, killing as necessary. 

"Allow me to emphasize the word necessary..." Petrichor growled when the subject was brought up. Everybody had now more or less, developed a sort of fearful respect for Petrichor. They were the medic, but their capability with knives and other sharp tools was not to be doubted. For the rest of the evening and into the very earliest hours of morning, they stayed there. It wasn't until 2 am that nearly everybody had cleared out. Tomorrow they would meet at 10 pm to go foraging, in parties. 

        Eventually, it was just Petrichor, Isidore, and the two freshmen from their rooms, Millie and Edison. Petrichor and Isidore still hadn't gotten to shower yet, they passed some people, speaking to them and they ended up being wrapped up in this impromptu meeting.

"Hey, are you two gonna get showers now? If so, Eddy and I can keep watch for a half hour or so, make sure no staff members bust in on you two," squeaked Millie. She had a presence despite being so small. Not obnoxiously loud, but she certainly didn't let her size stop her, nor did she let exhaustion. 

"I can't speak for Petri, but I know that I'd appreciate it," Isidore sighed, giving her a grateful smile and pat on the head, not so demeaning as it was fatigue making it harder to show gratitude. Petrichor nodded quietly in agreement, sitting on the floor and leaning against a locker room bench. With that, Millie and Edison took their leave, and after hours of being crowded and filled with stress and teenagers, it was empty save for Petri and Isidore. There was still an awful tension lingering though, that Petrichor obviously had no intention of defusing. This lasted a few minutes while Isidore searched for his locker, searching for showering supplies and his spare pair of underwear he kept here.

"You can go first, and I can just sit in this area. If you uh, don't want me seeing you undressed or anything," He eventually coughed, not entirely sure of how comfortable Petrichor was with being around others bare, due to them not having talked terribly much, before all of this.

"I'm fine. If it doesn't bother you, it doesn't bother me. I can use a private shower stall if you're bothered or whatever," They grunted, standing finally to start undressing out of more or less, the blue. Isidore had to force himself to look away. No matter Petrichor's assigned sex, he was a gentleman. His curiosity could wait until Petri cared to tell him, which could easily be never. 

"No, no it's fine by me. I just wanted to be polite is all," This caused Petrichor to chuckle, at which Isidore feigned offense, "What? You think I'm that type of guy? I'm insulted." 

"No, I just took you as the modest type. I was worried about you more than me. Frankly though, I'm a medic so I kinda have to study the human body, you know, that thing under your clothes and disgusting optimism. In vast details at that. Also, I've never been so much the modest type about my body, 's just skin and all," They snickered a bit more, continuing to undress. By now, they were sitting just behind Isidore, in boxers and a chest binder. 

"Well, I have nothing to hide, Doctor Arden. Hell, I may as well ask for a medical evaluation while we're here," He laughed pulling supplies out of his locker and turning around. He jumped a little when he saw how close Petrichor had gotten, they moved more quietly than he thought, which caused Petri to snort a bit in amusement. 

"Alright, come here, undress to your underwear and I'll check up on you. It's easier for me to find broken ribs this way," 

Isidore sputtered a bit before beginning to take off his shirt, " Oh uh, didn't think you would actually...I mean I was sorta kidding but hey, may as well, right?"

"You don't have to. If you want to walk around with broken ribs you can. I just wanted to be polite is all," Petri mocked, standing up to squirm out of their chest binder. Once again, Isidore made sure not to stare, though curiosity about the chest binder more than their chest burned. He'd rather not risk his glance be misinterpreted. Though, it couldn't really be helped when Petri massaged their chest with a relaxed sigh, muttering something under their breath, and it definitely made Isidore turn a bit red.

"Are...you sure you don't want me to leave? Like, leave leave? I can wait outside with Mill and Eddy, shower tomorrow or something," Isidore jabbered, gathering his stuff in his arms, ready to leave in a heartbeat. If they were going to be stuck in close quarters, he'd much rather it not be awkward.

"Dude. I've had my binder on all day, I'm just making sure my ribs aren't cracking or anything, it's cool okay?"

"Didn't know your ribs were in your breast"

"Okay, well when you wear a chest binder, your tits hurt too but pardon me for trying to be subtle," Petri bluntly put it. They shot Isidore a look, huffing a bit and standing up.

"Grabbing your chest and making suggestive noises isn't what I'd call subtle," Isidore's words only made Petrichor angrier.

"Well, then you're free to leave!"

"I'd much rather not."

"Then don't complain!"

"Okay...uh, sorry," At this point, Isidore just wanted to end the conversation. It would've been best to not have said anything, he realized. Petrichor grunted with annoyance before moving beside Isidore to get to their shower locker, getting their stuff out. Isidore noted for a moment that they had a preference for Old Spice, before they slammed the door, readjusting and testing the lock on it.  

"You're still staring? I thought you were getting a shower."

"I am, uh sorry. I did get sorta caught up in staring, b-but off into space, not uh, at you. Also, at your shampoo and stuff. I've never...really used Old Spice. Is it good?"

Petrichor couldn't help but burst into giggles due to the way Isidore's composure dissolved. He always tried to play the cool guy, but he was just too genuine for it. This only embarrassed Isidore further.

"God, I can't even stay mad at you for my own good. Kinda like how you can't seem to be the apathetic cool dude even if you'd die otherwise. Heh...You wanna borrow my Old Spice? This stuff is based off wolves or whatever, smells pretty fruity too," They remarked. Isidore lightly laughed, even redder than before, if it were even possible. At least they weren't still mad, right? Isidore nodded a little, and Petri tossed him a red and black drawstring bag, then got up and walked towards the showers. Isidore was unsure about following, but he'd been taking risks all day. All week, really.

What harm could one more be?


	4. The One Where They Bang (3.5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen, shower scene. Obligatory shower sex scene. That is all.

Neither of them is quite sure how they got here, soaked and slippery, kissing in the corner of the showers, in the early hours of the AM. It was messy, uncoordinated, and Isidore especially, was unsure how to take it all any further.

Except Petrichor quite remembers how this escalated so far; with Isidore's occasional glances, to which they asked him if he wanted to help them wash up. Petrichor still was unsure if it was a mistake or not, because the tension just kept building. Petrichor couldn't hardly keep their eyes of Isidore's oddly athletic build, and Isidore had trouble keeping his eyes from wandering Petrichor's slender body. It really was rather neutral looking, if they had their arms above their head, and their legs closed. 

Next thing the two knew, they found each other on their lips, messy and not in the sexy way. More in the way most teenagers were, unexperienced, fumbling, just doing their best to imitate what the kids did in the media, and in the porn they all undoubtedly snuck. This was all of course, to little avail, though Petrichor was both surprised and comforted by how unexperienced Isidore seemed. He was after all, attractive. His personality wasn't half bad either, from what Petrichor had witnessed these past few days. Wouldn't he have at least some background on the art of kissing, even if he was a virgin? Or...could he just be this bad? 

It was a bit of both for Isidore. Sure, he'd been kissed before, but he'd never been one to initiate. He wasn't sure which one of them initiated this. It just...happened. Like in the movies, but a lot less sexy, and a lot more of them trying not to fall in the showers and get found dead, naked, on top of each other. It was also a lot more of Isidore being confused, because he hadn't really known what procedures you should take with a nonbinary partner like this. Sort of how one should be sensitive with a transgender partner, was this the same thing? Well, given how handsy and reckless Petrichor had become, he supposed not. That, or it depended on whether or not your partner in question is Petrichor Arden. 

There probably wasn't enough communication between the two, they just went with their instincts, going off what they'd gauged from the other's reaction. This resulted in Petrichor sitting on the wet, well kept white tiling, leaned against the wall, with Isidore sitting across from them on his knees, gently fondling their aching chest. Petrichor responded with labored breathing, face to the ceiling, eyes closed as their arm shield them from the too-bright florescent lights of the showers. Isidore needed to say something, break the silence, make sure they weren't messing up or doing this against Petri's will...

"H-How does that feel?" His voice came out lower than he expected, almost a growl that could be barely heard above the pounding water. Petrichor responded with a nod, chest heaving and back arching a bit, trying to move closer somehow. The position was awkward, Petrichor's legs spread suggestively, stretched out a bit too, with Isidore on his knees between them, hunched forward because he didn't want to move in any closer, lest he mess up, something of his brushing something of their's and ending this peculiarly pleasant encounter in a heartbeat, nipping the rose bud before it got to bloom. 

Isidore kept going, thumbs tracing circles across delicate epicenters on Petrichor's chest, and it seemed to take all of their will not to make anymore noise beyond pleased grunts. This went on, Petrichor only growing more tender, until they couldn't take it anymore, they'd already been brought to panting by then. Their skin was too hot, too tight, they just wanted to slice open their belly to relieve the pressure, but they couldn't so they settled for ungracefully throwing Isidore's hands off their chest, much to his surprise.

They pushed themselves off the wall,and into Isidore's lap, arms slung carelessly around him as Petrichor sought for tender flesh in his neck to bury their teeth into, with some success it seemed. Isidore yelped in surprise, his hand moving into Petrichor's hair, while they awkwardly ground themselves against his leg, desperate for stimulation however they could find it. Petrichor was using the vulnerable flesh of Isidore's neck to muffle the noises they made, while they struggled to get in enough air quick enough through their nose, they didn't want to let go of the other.

Isidore's interest in it all was rather visible, and every now and again, Petrichor's slim, slick stomach would brush against his tip, causing him to buck his hips, because God he suddenly felt deprived and needy and what he was getting wasn't enough, and it took all of his strength to keep from pushing Petrichor off entirely so that he could tend to himself. But, he settled for pushing them away from his now raw throat, leaving them gasping for breath. 

"F-Fuck, hold on a second..." His voice was gravelly as he spoke, and Petrichor immediately slid their fingers into Isidore's inky shoulder length hair, their eyes hazy from a lot of things, exhaustion most likely being one of them, among others. Petrichor's legs clamped around one of this, shaking a bit as they tried to keep themselves still. For a moment, the two just sat, tangled up in each other, trying to catch their breath.

"Wh-what is it?" Petrichor muttered in annoyance, thighs squeezing around one of Isidore's.

"I just needed a sec...This is all happening kinda fast you know...," he managed to gasp. The realization hit Petrichor like a bullet, and they looked away guiltily.

"Not that it's a bad thing... I just...wanted to make sure we're still on the same page here." He gave them a shaky grin, fingers stroking their back to reassure them. They nodded, readjusting themselves to completely straddle Isidore, hands running along all the bite marks they left on his neck.

"Could use a bit of...stimulation myself though." He let out a choked laugh, as Petrichor moved in even closer, gasping a bit as their clit brushed a bit against Isidore. 

"L-Like this?"

Isidore nodded, burying their face into Petrichor's neck to reciprocate the biting from before, causing the other to yelp a bit, legs clenching around Isidore, which caused Isidore to bite harder. A cycle of affection, that continued with growing volume, until the leg clenching became hips bucking, and that continued until the sound of pounding water was almost drowned entirely, by heaving breaths and moans. There were fingers tangled in Isidore's hair, pulling a little bit as the owner rocked their hips. Every now and then, a word would form from the noises, mostly curses, or one of them urging the other on, more, more.

It was graceless, and sloppy, and without a doubt, satisfying, but not enough so to apex. It kept both of them just on the edge, until one of them made realization of this, pulling away for a moment. 

"H-Here...Let me...B-better position," Isidore's voice was rough and spent. Petrichor nodded and crawled off, and it was in that moment, Isidore realized he didn't have anything in mind that was any better, or was simply in the question rather than out of it. His hand idly stroked himself, causing Petrichor to catch his attention again with a noise of annoyance. He gulped, nodded, and his mind flipped through all the smut that came to mind, as he tried to think of something, anything. Eventually, he just moved to sit on his knees in front of Petrichor, reaching between their legs to rub them, and on a hunch, they reached forward to reciprocate.

It didn't take long before they ended up moving closer, tangling in each other's limbs, kissing and groping and grinding, whatever their instincts yearned for, they satisfied best they could in a heartbeat. Eventually, out of nowhere, Petrichor tensed up, legs wrapped around Isidore and their hips were bucking wildly, breath catching in their throat as they tried to spur him on without words. Luckily, he got the memo, and rubbed their clit to a faster tempo, an impressive feat given Petrichor's quivering. In return, once they had just barely began to come down from the high, they stroked Isidore rough, until he finished, his panting becoming sporadic as he came.

For a minute or two, they stayed there, lazily rubbing each other as they came back to their senses.

"Mill and Eddy probably think something is up...don't they," Petrichor finally managed. Isidore smiled and nodded softly in agreement.

"Fun. If I get any weird questions from either of them, I'm letting you answer. I am not about to give them the skinny on how nonbinary folks engage in coitus. That's all you." They laughed, climbing off Isidore to go rinse themselves off, though they shook a bit as they walked. Isidore decided to get up and do the same, walking behind Petrichor, and gently fondling their chest, which won them a surprised, shaky moan.

"Gotta make sure your chest isn't gonna be sure. I sorta interrupted your personal massage earlier...Consider this me making it up to you, i-if you want."

Petrichor nodded, leaning back against Isidore as they sighed contently, not even all that aroused by their chest being touched, but more just enjoying the contact, and intimacy of it. Isidore leaned in, burying their face into the crook of the other's neck, gently kissing marks they left. 

Once they were both content with their cleanliness, they finally decided to dry off and get redressed. It was still a bit awkward, but more in a different way. They still hadn't really spoken about the circumstances, the fact that it happened, the fact this was accidental, and the fact that neither of them were very sure about how they felt other than sexually satisfied. Before they left the locker room, as Isidore was pulling his long hair back into a ponytail, Petrichor sat beside them, leaning a bit. 

"When we're a little less sleep deprived, we...we should talk about this, if it's alright with you," Petrichor muttered against them. 

"Yeah...when we're both in the right mind, we should. That, and I uh, really enjoyed this. Even if it was a bit...impromptu," He laughed softly, leaning back against Petrichor, and kissing their cheek softly. Petrichor had been so bold before, but now they were back to being a bit sheepish, a bit worried, almost like Isidore would disappear in a heartbeat. 

"Don't think I ever realized how uh, backed up the past few days made me, and how good it felt with another person," Isidore nervously whispered, but at the same time, it had part of that growl he had before. It made Petrichor blush and feel hot between their legs again, already anticipating the next time. 

"Wait, you've...never been with anybody before? I thought you were some sorta heartthrob..." This made Isidore blush, and turn away for a moment with a sigh.

. "Well, I am, but I never, uh...yeah. Just never happened. And I'm not sure how much this counts?" Petrichor grunted softly in response to Isidore, leaning against the other more in thought.

"I'm counting it. I got touched, it felt good, it counts as far as I'm concerned," Petrichor laughed anxiously, looking to Isidore who smiled back, standing up and running his fingers through his hair. He offered his hand to Petrichor, who took it. Now that they were both dressed, and freshened up, they left the locker room. 

They definitely got weird looks from Mill and Eddy.

"Did...one of you fall or something? Like, a lot?" Millie asked.


End file.
